


Detective Jizz Pants

by DarknessBound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baker Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Castiel is Not Oblivious (Supernatural), Coming In Pants, Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Detective Dean Winchester, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Instant Attraction, Jack The Ripper References, M/M, Meet-Cute, Role-Playing Game, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessBound/pseuds/DarknessBound
Summary: When Charlie forces Dean out to investigate a cold case, he reluctantly agrees. At worst... he hangs with friends and eats some pie. At best... he gets a slice of the baker too.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Detective Jizz Pants

“Dammit, Charlie. I told you to give me a warning next time you were gonna drag me to some nerd shit.” Dean looks away from her because he knows she’ll just give those damn ‘little sister’ eyes he can’t refuse.

“Yeah, but I knew you’d just say no. I paid for it, I bought your outfit. All you have to do is come... and play.” He looks back at her then, just in time to see her innocently grin from ear to ear.

“Fine. Where’s the friggin clothes?” Dean snatches them and runs upstairs to change.

Truth be told, he loves these best friend dates with Charlie, but sometimes he just wants to binge some TV for a full 24 hours while pigging out. _Why can’t_ **_that_ ** _be a date? We’d talk about our lives more than we’re about to downtown, solving some cold case that doesn’t exist. Or does it exist?_ He wasn’t too sure. _But isn’t that the point of monthly dates? Catching up? Or is it more about the quality time?_ He assumes it’s the latter and gets dressed in some old-timey detective suit — complete with a hat — and makes his way downstairs. “Think this outfit will get me laid?”

She huffs a laugh and gives him an exaggerated nod. "Yes, I do. But then again, you could wear just about anything and somehow find a way to get laid, so it's not as much of a compliment as you'd think. Now come on, your brother's already there, and Jares are on their way."

“You roped those asshats into this, too? I bet J will be dressed up with his hair all ridiculous.” Dean chuckles and motions for her to come on. “Will there be food?”

"Yes, you insatiable moron. There will be food, and if you're a good boy, I'll even get you pie after. Sound good?" Charlie grabs Dean's keys from the table and tosses them to him. "Sam texted me and said it's all on foot, but we still have to get there. Let’s go!"

She dashes out the door without another word, and Dean follows with an award winning eye roll. _Good boy. I’ll show you ‘good boy.’_

The drive over is full of Dean singing just to annoy Charlie, but it seems like nothing could tank her mood. After a duet to _Old Time Rock & Roll, _ they pull onto the cobblestone street of Old Town and park. “Haven’t been down here in years.”

“That's because you don't hang out with me enough,” she points out. “There’s the others. I am _so_ ready for this!”

She hops out and Dean follows. Neither are shocked to find Jask and Sam already in an argument. 

“Are you kidding me? Why do _you_ get to be Head Detective?”

Sam scoffs. “I'm the obvious choice, I went to law school.”

“You took pre-law and dropped out!” Jask counters, his voice raising almost an entire octave. “It doesn't count, your creds are as bullshit as your hairdo.”

“Whoa, whoa. You two about to throw hands over whose hair is better? Cause, if ya ask me... they both suck.” Dean grins innocently and Ares bites back a laugh.

Jask rolls his eyes. “Mmhm, see if we ever invite _you_ to middle for us again, ya cuck.” Ares smacks his arm, making him chuckle. “Sorry.”

“If you idiots are done, I'd like to solve a crime,” Charlie cuts in. “And not the case of who murdered all four of you, because I’d be investigating myself.”

Dean frowns in confusion while he thinks about what the hell she just said, and then it all clicks. “Oh... ha, that was kinda witty, Chuckles.” 

Sam facepalms and opens the file. “Alright, we got Jack The Ripper. What do we know about him?”

“Hookers!” Dean blurts out, making a family of five all stare at him in shock. “Sorry.”

Jask laughs so hard he’s nearly in tears, and Ares smacks him for a second time. “Okay, okay,” he says, leaning over for a kiss. “Dean’s right though, he — or she — mainly went after prostitutes. It's a cold case cause none of the many police forces involved could ever figure out whodunnit.”

“I bet he had a good-ass cover. Someone you’d never expect like a teacher or a — a mayor or somethin’.” Dean looks around and sees a candy shop down the way and also a bakery on the corner. _That’s my guy. Not tellin’ these asshats though... gonna eat some pie before I bust ‘em._

Sam shakes his head. “They worked out a few years ago that it was a barber. Can't prove it, of course… but sounds more _Sweeney Todd_ than Andrei Chikatilo.” 

“Either way, we’re starting fresh. There’s a list here of potential witnesses we’re supposed to interrogate… Do we want to split up or stick together?”

“Let’s split up. You all know I like working alone.” Dean makes sure to grab the list with the bakery on it and folds it up and tips his hat. “Gentlemen... and Charlie.” 

She shoves him but asks Sam if he’ll be her partner, knowing Jares are inseparable-at-the-everything, and Dean’s just happy he got away. He’s still in a ridiculous costume, but he can _almost_ pretend it’s just a pie trip as he walks down the street. 

That is, until Charlie yells at him before he’s out of earshot: “Stay away from the damn bakery, Dean! You better interrogate some people!”

He just offers her a cheesy, close-lipped smile and heads inside one of the adjacent stores, peeking out the window until the others are out of sight. The moment they're gone, he ducks back out and heads straight for the bakery. He can smell the pie before he opens the door and when he actually does, it’s enough to make him swoon — as is the baker. 

The guy behind the counter is tall, dark, and delicious — but Dean didn't come to flirt, he came for pie. Removing his hat, Dean walks over and looks in at all the empty pans with a look of mock betrayal. “Where’s the loot, buddy?!”

He taps the glass counter. “I'm fresh out, but I can make you one if you'd like to come back later for it. If not, I can offer you something more fitting to your time period? Maybe a shoofly pie?”

“Shoo _huh_ pie?!” Dean looks at the crumb-topped pie and shrugs. “Bet a shoe pie is better than no pie.” He winks and nods his head. “I’ll take some, but then I have some questions.”

With a quirked eyebrow, the baker serves him a slice topped with whipped cream. “Careful, it's so sweet it'll knock your socks off.”

“You, or the pie?” Dean smirks as he takes his first bite, and it’s so damn good he moans, closing his eyes and pounding his fist down on the table. “Oh my — fuck. Will you marry me? There’s a church around the corner.”

“Not the question I was expecting you to ask, but sure. I get off in three hours. You'll have to take me covered in flour or not at all.” He leans forward. “I'm Cas.”

“Wouldn’t have you any other way, Cas.” Dean takes another bite and practically orgasms again. “I’m Dean — or Detective Dean, I should say. You saw the hat. This is serious business.”

“Mm,” he says with a soft smile. “I can tell. You've worked up quite an appetite solving crimes all day, Detective.”

“Mmhm. Speaking of...” He sets his fork down. “Any of your hookers go missing off the corner? And yeah, I said _your_ hookers. We both know this is a front and you’re absolutely a pimp.” He takes another bite to keep from laughing.

Cas looks equally amused and offended. “No one’s ever figured it out so quickly,” he teases. “You got all of that from my shoofly pie? It's a good thing I only serve it once a year, then.”

“Once a year? That won’t do.” Dean looks over at the pie and knows he has to buy the whole thing, but that can wait. “After my _piegasm,_ ima have to check out your back room, sir.”

The look on Cas’ face turns to one of mock inconvenience. “Fine, but I warn you… that's where I do all of my top-secret pimp business.”

“Course you do. Look at you...” Dean shakes his head with his lips pursed. “Covered in flour, pimp slappin’ hoes... what kind of car you drive, Cas?”

He clears his throat as he heads for the back door. “A 1978 Lincoln Continental Mark V. And no, you're not allowed to call it a pimp mobile… it’s a good car.”

Dean tosses his head back with a laugh, thinking about how this day is already so much better than he expected. “This is friggin epic. Cas... I haven’t laughed that hard in years. Alright, lemme in your back door.” He follows, still chuckling as he walks.

“I normally don't have sex on the first date, but… if you brought handcuffs, I’ll be powerless to resist.” The door swings shut behind them and Cas reaches up to pull the string for the light. There's nothing but boxes and extra ingredients back there, and an industrial sized oven against the far wall. 

“You’re the pimp. No handcuffs back here?” Dean looks around for a moment and then walks back over, stopping directly in front of Cas. “Think that pie smells done.”

“I assumed a proper detective would have handcuffs, my mistake.” He glances toward the timer on the oven and mumbles something under his breath, then goes to take it out, bending over to reach it. 

Dean blatantly checks out his gorgeous ass and gets caught in the act, instantly pretending he was looking at the ceiling and turning away.

“Hmm.” Cas resumes his previous spot directly in front of Dean. “Can I help you with something else, Detective? Anything... _else_ you’d like to investigate while you're back here?”

 _No way he doesn’t feel... whatever is happening right now. I’m not crazy... he wants to fuck my brains out too, right? Maybe it was the pie? What the fuck_ **_is_ ** _shoe pie? Focus, Dean!_ “Uh...” Dean realizes just how close they’re standing and licks his lips slowly. “What was that?”

Cas’ gaze drops to watch his tongue, and he sucks in a quiet breath. “I… would really like to kiss you right now, Dean.”

He smiles seconds before leaning in and kissing that baker like his life depends on it. Dean moans into the kiss, sliding his tongue into Cas’ mouth and wrapping his arms around him, pulling their bodies flush together. 

With stumbled, clumsy movements, they end up against one of the racks filled with ingredients, and Cas pins their hips together as he chases that kiss. Dean isn't sure which one of them started moving first, but by the time his brain catches up with what's happening, they're grinding their clothed cocks against each other. 

Dean grips his ass, wishing he could be buried inside of it — but even this feels better than some random lay behind a bar. He feels their chemistry throughout every inch of his skin and he’s so hard he’s leaking in his slacks.

The moment Cas breaks the kiss in favor of biting his neck, he knows they're both goners. Maybe dry humping each other in the back of bakery in the middle of the day isn't the most romantic thing, but Cas doesn't seem to care — he's all soft whispers and quiet moans as his teeth graze Dean’s skin, and his grip tightens on Dean’s hips a moment before he gasps. “I'm… Dean, I’m…”

“Fuck, me too.” Dean bares his neck for more, gripping Cas’ ass while their rhythm starts to falter.

It's the grunts Cas lets out against his skin as he comes that really get him. Even through the fucking apron, Dean can feel his hot cock throbbing with his release, and he quickly follows. He moans Cas’ name like a prayer as he adds to the mess between them. 

Dean doesn’t think about the fact that he’s 25 and absolutely should _not_ be jizzing in his pants at this age. He can’t. All he can think about is how amazing it felt when it happened, and how it feels just as good right now as they come down together.

“I definitely didn't have _that_ on my Jack the Ripper bingo card,” Cas says with a sated chuckle. “I should tell you, you got the wrong guy. You want the barber two streets over, he’s your man.”

“Fuck that guy. You’re my guy. Knew it from the second I smelled your damn bakery, Cas. Ima goner.” Dean huffs a laugh and presses their foreheads together.

“So… give me your number, go solve the mystery… and call me when you're done. I'd very much like to see what happens next,” Cas says with a blush. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. You still makin’ me a pie for later?” Dean grins, still not moving away.

He nods, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Any kind you like, Dean.”

“Apple... and cherry.” After one more kiss, Dean steps back and looks down at his crotch. “Goddamnit... how am I supposed to explain this?!”

Cas licks his lips with an amused expression, then heads over to the sink. A moment later, he's tossing a cup full of water on Dean’s crotch. “There.”

“Cas!” Dean tosses his hands up with a laugh. “Now it just looks like I pissed myself.” He looks down for a closer look. 

A second cup full of water makes it worse. "Better than jizzing your pants when you're supposed to be solving one of the world's most famous cold cases."

Dean gallic shrugs and shakes some water down his leg. “What can I say. Cold cases get my juices flowin.”

Cas lets out a full-body laugh and shakes his head, then fishes out his phone so they can exchange numbers. A full ten minutes and _several_ extra kisses later, Dean’s making his way back out onto the street to meet the others.

Charlie and Sam find him first, and Charlie immediately stares at his pants. “What… You know what, I don't want to know. Where’s your hat?”

“Yeah, don’t ask. And my what? I don’t wear hats. M’too friggin handsome.” He offers a pearly white grin, hoping it keeps anyone from asking about his pants.

Unfortunately for him, Sam didn't get that memo. He shakes his head with a grossed-out scowl. "Okay, Detective Jizz Pants. If you're done screwing around, Charlie and I solved the case. We need to find the others and go claim our prize... and get you somewhere no one has to look at you."

Dean blushes and he can’t even deny it. Of _course_ Sam knows what actually happened. “Whatever, Detective Douche, let’s get this done. I've got myself a date with a baker.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! I hope everyone’s 2021 is better than 2020.


End file.
